Professional Help
by Pirateweasel
Summary: Lennier needs professional help. Takes place shortly after season two begins. Part of the 'Babylon 5: Maintenance Files' series.


A/N- I have no excuse for this. I repent nothing...

* * *

Lennier opened his eyes. He sat there motionless for a moment, still seated in the proper position for meditation, his form, as always, flawless. Taking a deep breath, he let his mind review every insight he had gained during his meditation. He sighed. It had not worked. Again.

He had done everything that a proper religious caste Minbari should do. At yet, after trying every possible ritual and every meditation that could possibly relate in even the slightest of ways, it still had not worked. He could not ask Delenn about this…. This burden was meant to be his; he had chosen to follow her and assist _HER_, he would not add his burden to the already heavy load that she carried. If only there were other Minbari on the station that he could ask, even if they were worker caste instead of religious. Maybe, for this issue, worker caste would even be _better_ to ask. At this point, however, one thing had become painfully obvious.

Lennier, of the third Fane of Chu'Domo, a highly trained religious caste Minbari, needed professional help.

Holding in the bruised pride that—as a religious caste Minbari, he would never admit to having—Lennier stood up and made his way to the communication screen for Delenn's quarters.

"This is Babylon 5 maintenance…How can we assist you?"

* * *

Gregson, the current head of maintenance for Babylon 5 grunted in annoyance as he ran his thick fingers through his thinning hair. Less than a month to go before he was reposted Earthside, and at this rate, he would be completely bald from stress before he got there. He let his hand fall to the desk with a 'thud'.

Rickers, one of the crew heads on duty, poked his head in the open door at the sound of the 'thud'.

"You okay, boss?" he asked.

"Just one more request from the diplomatic sector," Gregson said, grimacing. "This time it's the Minbari. They want someone to assist in the Ambassador's quarters, but they won't say what they need assistance _with_, only that it has to be someone who is completely trustworthy in regards to discretion and non-disclosure."

Rickers let out a low whistle.

"That's not gonna be easy to find," he told the maintenance chief. "We've got plenty of trustworthy and discrete people, but...Minbari? Most of the guys I would trust to fill those qualifications for _ANY_ of the other diplomats fought during the Earth-Minbar war…. They're not gonna want to deal with the Minbari by themselves with no information on what they are needed for. Who are you going to send?"

The maintenance chief looked thoughtful for a moment. "What's Pitts doing right now?" he asked.

"Ron….?" Rickers said, looking surprised. "You're thinking about sending Pitts in there? Which one are you irritated by the most, right now? Pitts or the boneys?"

"I would never assign someone to a job because I was 'irritated' by them, Rickers," Gregson said, scowling as he reached for a tablet to fill out the work form. "And _don't_ call them 'boneys'. You'll end up on review if I hear that again while you're on duty…and it'll be worse if anyone else on the senior staff hears it at all."

Pitts will be fine dealing with the Minbari."

* * *

The door's chime stopped Lennier from completing another round of pacing the room as he waited. Crossing the room, he opened the door, schooling his face to appear calm as he did so.

"You are here in response to the maintenance request?" he asked, seeing the uniform common to the Babylon 5 workers.

"That's right," said the cheerfully grinning woman on the other side of the door. "Maintenance staff Pitts. Call me Roni, though." She thrust a hand out towards Lennier in what he recognized as a human 'hand-shake' offer—a form of human greeting ritual.

Looking down at extended hand, he said, "I am Lennier, the ambassador's attaché. Please, come inside." He stepped back and to the side to allow her to enter.

Lennier was mildly surprised that, instead of looking around the ambassador's quarters as he had expected any of the humans that entered would have done, she turned to him and said, "You need me for something in the ambassador's sleeping chamber, don't you?"

Hiding his surprise at her statement, Lennier asked, "Why do you say that?"

She shrugged slightly and replied, "Well, nothing else seems different since I cleaned two days ago; so, I think it has to do with whatever had the ambassador's sleeping chamber off-limits for a period of time. What kind of assistance do you need? Is it a cleaning issue, or is something failing to work properly?"

"Before we go any further, I must have a promise that you will use absolute discretion in regards to this matter. Information about what I am going to show you cannot go any further than the ambassador's door," he stated gravely.

Pitts looked at him for a moment before she spoke.

"Sir, I have _never_ discussed what I do or do not see, hear, find, or experience in any of the diplomatic quarters…the same as I would for anyone else's home. If my word is enough for you, then please show me what you need assistance with. If it is not, I will ask the maintenance chief to assign you someone who will fill out and file a non-disclosure agreement." She stood, calmly waiting for him to decide what he wanted to do.

Lennier stared at the human female in front of him for a moment. This was…unexpected. He had anticipated rudeness, anger, or a guilty agreement that said that she had been thinking of telling others what she found in Delenn's quarters. But this, she simply waited-as calm as a Minbari might have—for him to decide if she could be trusted. Taking a chance—something that Lennier rarely did if Delenn was involved—he inclined his head and said, "This way, please."

The door to Delenn's sleeping chamber slid open to reveal Lennier's problem. Pitts stared at the sight in front of her silently before activating her comm badge. There was a 'chirp' and a voice said, "Medlab 6…"

"This is maintenance staff Pitts. I need to speak with Dr. Franklin, please. It's urgent, but not an emergency…"

"One moment…."

Only a few seconds had passed before her comm badge chirped again.

"This is Dr. Franklin. What is it that you needed, Pitts?"

"Hey, Doc; it's about the Minbari ambassador…. Is there any chance that she could become ill from close contact with a human?"

"How close are we talking about, Pitts? And please, feel free to not be too specific."

"It's me, Doc, not one of the fighter crew," she said, exasperation tinging her voice. "I just want to make certain that I'm not risking her health if I clean up in her quarters, considering the—_changes_—that she has undergone."

There was a soft, almost smothered chuckle from the link. "I had almost forgotten that you are also assigned to cleaning the diplomatic sector," the doctor's voice told her. "No, the ambassador's health should not be in any danger from you cleaning her quarters. Did you need anything else?" he asked politely.

"That was all. Thanks, Doctor." She shut down her link and looked up at the Minbari who was still standing over her shoulder, obviously trying to overhear what she said, without being obvious about what he was doing. "What exactly was that?" she asked, waving her hand at the light-brown—_thing_—that was attached to the walls of the room's corner. It looked almost as though it had been formed from hardened spider webs.

"_That_," Lennier said reverently, "is the cocoon that the ambassador encased herself in so as to transform herself to facilitate a better understanding between humans and Minbari. It is also," his voice took on a wry tone, "something that I have been unable to properly remove and cleanse." He watched as the woman—_Roni_—she had called herself crossed the room and crouched down to get a closer look at the remains of the cocoon. She seemed to be humming to herself as she fingered the places where it was attached to the wall and then picked up a piece from the floor, turning it over in her hands. A moment later, she straightened up.

"I'll get my cart and tools," she told him. "You can gather whatever you will need to perform the necessary cleansing rituals when I leave. Hopefully, this will not take up too much more of your time. I have no doubt that you are needed to assist the ambassador in more important matters that this." Having said that, the now determined-looking woman headed towards the corridor to collect her supplies.

* * *

After what must have been a few hours but felt like an incredibly short time to the Minbari who had just spent days trying to achieve the same result, the once-again smiling maintenance staff woman was returning her tools and remaining supplies to her cart.

"All yours again, Mr. Lennier," she said as she invited him to inspect the area.

"It is more than satisfactory," he told her, running his hands over the wall. Not only was the cocoon removed, but there was no mark of it having ever been there to begin with. "How is it that you were able to return it to this condition?" he asked, curious as to what she could have done that he had not done already, himself.

She tilted her head to the side and gave a small laugh. "I think we should consider that a 'trade secret'," was the reply. "After all, if everyone knew it, why would they ever request professional help?"

You can ask for me any time that you have an issue requiring maintenance," she added, pushing her cart out the door of the Mimbari ambassador's quarters. "I will be happy to assist."

Lennier gave her a small bow as he stood in the doorway to see her out.

"Thank you, I will remember that staff Pitts…Roni," he said.

The grin that she gave Lennier at the use of her name was so bright; he found the corners of his mouth curling up—just a little—in return.


End file.
